


Where do we go from here?

by 110101



Category: Bridgerton (TV)
Genre: Benedict is NOT emotionally intelligent in this, Benedict is a certified disaster bi, F/M, jeez man get it together, this was supposed to be a short oneshot but noooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:35:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/110101/pseuds/110101
Summary: This has kind of gotten out of hand: Benedict starts third-wheeling Eloise's and Penelope's friendship like a pro and oops. She is actually really cute?!
Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 31
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write a short one shot. But, since my self control and ability to write short, cute romances both are at around zero, this is going to have at least two parts.  
> I don't really have an upload schedule, so it will be irregular, sorry!  
> Writng tips and grammar corrections (english is not my first language) are always apreciated <3  
> Hope you enjoy!

Benedict was draped sideways over an armchair in the drawing room. His drawing pad rested atop his knees while his spine was curved into an admittedly horrendous position.  
He was sure he would regret it the next day, but couldn’t be bothered to move. 

He started tapping the blunt end of his charcoal pencil against the white paper.  
A forceful sigh escaped his lungs.  
He could not deny it- today was one of those days where even the tiniest ounce of inspiration eluded him.

Not that such a thing as uncommon. One can still practice their craftsmanship without it.  
Regardless, it would be futile to pretend like putting the pencil to paper didn’t feel like a huge chore today.  
Benedict couldn’t help it, he had been producing godawful sketches of the furniture in the room for hours.  
Every single paper was then promptly crumpled up and thrown it straight into the fireplace.

“Benedict, stop your tapping this instant, or I swear I will use your drawing utensils to staple your hands to that chair!” exclaimed Eloise. To underline her point, she hit the armrest of the couch she was sprawled over (bad posture ran in the family).

He turned towards her and Penelope and grinned. “My apologies, I forgot you two were there for a minute.”

Which was actually true.  
They came in at some point after him. He said hello to Penelope and asked Eloise if he should leave the room.  
Every Bridgerton brother had been kicked out at least once when Eloise demanded to have a “girl talk” with her friend.

His younger sister replied she would graciously let him stay. Penelope said she and Eloise could go to Eloise’s room if he’d prefer, but he didn’t mind the company.

Benedict could tune out even lively conversation when he got lost in his own thoughts.

His sister flailed to get up from her half-lying position. She clasped her hands together over her chest in a mock expression of shock. “Forget we were here? When we have a guest? How dare you! Right, Pen?” She turned to her giggling ginger friend.

“Oh, it’s not the first time such a thing has happened. I should doubt it will be the last time, too” Penelope replied with a dismissive wave of her hand and levity in her voice.  
It was almost convincing.

He held back a frown. Did she perhaps take his remark as implying she was unremarkable? Considering how her first season went, it was very much possible.

Penelope didn’t seem that bothered. But, Benedict knew better than to take chances on invoking his sisters wrath for being unpleasant toward her friend.

“Well, Penelope is a Bridgerton in all but name, considering all the time she spends here” ,he said.  
“At this point, I'm only wondering when you two are going to make it official. If mother has a wedding to plan she might let Anthony and me off the hook for a while.”  
His lips stretched upward. Nice dodge, he thought.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, like a child. “You are just jealous I like her better than you!”

“Why, El, I thought we were going to get old and wrinkly together” Penelope quipped in.

Benedict smiled. Though they’ve never had a deep conversation together, they’ve become accustomed to each other over time.  
She and Eloise have been inseparable for years.

As a result, he got to enjoy her dry humor and quick wit that only came out around a select amount of people.

Meanwhile, his sister draped herself over her friends shoulders and pressed the side of her face against Penelope’s red hair. 

“I am most serious!” she said. “Imagine all that we will be able to do when we become spinsters together. The freedom!”

“Ha!” Benedict knew all too well about Eloise’s need for freedom – it was one of the most prevalent topics of their late night talks on the swings. 

He wondered, though, if her and Penelope’s dreams for their future truly aligned. Eloise seemed to be almost blind to the possibility of her friend marrying. 

Penelope was not popular, that was true, but many girls married eventually regardless.  
It could be that Eloise could not fathom someone deserving of Penelope proposing to her- and really, who would be enough for her best friend?  
He wondered if she would even find her own brothers unsatisfactory. After the incident with Colin (god forbid she find out about that),it was difficult to disagree. 

Lady Featherington was sure to think differently- she would be ecstatic about any marriage partner for her daughter. 

At the same time, it was impossible to imagine someone more suitable to be Eloise's partner for life.

Penelope and her got on like a house on fire, and she was a supportive figure in Eloise’s life.  
In contrast, a husband, or worse, children, would take away her independence.  
He had sometimes wondered in if the two were in a romantic relationship, but ended up abandoning that theory. 

Still, theirs was an interesting dynamic, he decided. He should like to observe further.

So Benedict leaned back and smiled agreeably while the two girls squabbled (they made for a scene both amusing and rather adorable). He picked up his pencil and paper.

Soon, he had completed several gestural drawings that would be impossible to identify. They weren’t modeling for him after all, and never held any position long enough for him to draw any details, never mind faces.

Still, Benedict found, he was having far more fun compared to when he was staring holes into the furniture.

They noticed, of course, since he was not exactly subtle about it. Eloise raised her eyebrow and Penelope flushed to the point her face matches her hair.

After he told them he wasn’t trying to capture their likeness and might die of boredom if he had to draw another vase, they took to simply ignoring him. 

Well, he caught Penelope sneaking nervous glances at him occasionally when he looked over the rim of his paper, but nothing too bad. Their eyes locked for a moment.  
Benedict throws a wink in her direction. For good measure.

She spun around.

“Whoa!” The liquid in Eloise’s teacup splashed against its sides as she pulled it out of the perimeter of Penelope’s swinging elbow. She patted her friends shoulder in a sympathetic manner.

“Benedict is stupid, don’t pay attention him. It makes it worse. Trust me, seriously.”

A chuckle tickled his throat.  
It was hard not to tease someone when the reactions were this fun.

Similar meetings became semi-regular. 

As he and Eloise continued to bond over their personal ambitions, she let him stay in the room more often when she discussed them with Penelope.

Most of the time, he was still energetically ejected from the drawing room, though. Alternatively, the two went to Eloise’s room to have complete privacy from all interruptions.  
Promenades were always off-limits (“Do you want people to think I’m playing chaperone for you and Penelope?!”). Neither he nor Penelope considered such assumptions a real possibility, but oh well.

Benedict didn’t always draw them, sometimes he joined the conversation instead. 

With time, Penelope grew less antsy and more open when he was around. He tentatively started considering her as a friend of his own, even if she stayed reserved.

The next season came sooner than anyone would like.  
Lady Whistledown’s column returned with it, to the delight of many.  
At least, this year promised to be less chaotic than the previous one. Daphne was happily married, and Eloise refused to debut again.  
His mother was hopeful he and Anthony would finally settle down. Like the years before, they had no intention to.  
The columnist reported the sentiment, not that it would stop countless young ladies from trying their luck anyway.

It was only the first ball of the season and the evening is still young, but Benedict already wanted nothing more to go home.  
He excused himself for approximately the fifth time in under in hour from a conversation with some young thing and her overbearing mother when he noticed Penelope standing in a corner.  
How she escaped his gaze for this long despite the garish pink color of her dress was a mystery.

To his defense, there was a large group of people standing in front of her. And he could have sworn she hadn’t left her spot since the beginning of the ball.  
He’d have seen her for sure if she had been on the dance floor.

Colin, he realized, always was the only one dancing with her. At their mother’s request.  
His stomach felt like he had swallowed a rock.  
Gentlemen with proper manners should at least see that every woman had the chance to dance once. The attendants of this events were neglecting that duty entirely.  
He sighed.  
All, himself included were used to Colin taking care of her, as much as he hated to admit it. Still, why had rarely anybody else asked her?

She danced well enough, from what he knew. It wasn’t like a single dance was that time-intensive either.  
A man always danced with several ladies during a ball, so sparing a single one was not exactly a huge burden.  
So, Benedict decided to solve the problem himself.

He crossed the room in brisk strides.  
“Nice seeing you, Penelope. I had quite a hard time finding you in here,” he greeted her.  
She looked up at him with a wry smile.  
“I hear that rather often.”

“So…,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. ”Would you like to dance?”  
She covered her mouth with a gloved hand (same awful color as her dress) while she chuckled.  
“I take it you took pity on me?”

Her statement was true, but Benedict’s mother would never have raised a man who would ever admit to doing such a thing.  
Instead, he said: “Your impression of me is far too charitable. Has it not crossed your mind I might be trying to use you as my shield from overeager mothers for the evening?”

Penelope looked adequately convinced. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding escape his lungs.  
“I was not going to turn down my only chance to dance either way,” she said with a shrug.

He offered her his arm to escort her to the dancefloor, which she accepted with a bright smile.  
As he thought, she was a skilled dancer.  
Benedict mostly stuck to her side for the rest of the event (he still made up an excuse to leave early).  
Others still approached him on occasion, but it was way more manageable than at the beginning. The white lie he told her earlier proved close to the truth, which was a nice side effect.

“I appreciate you keeping most of the debutantes off my back, Penelope. Thanks to you, I had a far nicer evening than expected,” he told her shortly before leaving.  
“No problem, I had fun too,” she replied.  
“ Anthony and I will be taking a carriage home shortly. Would you like to come with us?”  
“Ah, thank you for offering,” she said with a crooked smile,” but I will return home together with my mother and sisters.”  
Benedict shrugged, not quite comprehending why one would linger at the ball any longer than required. “Suit yourself, I suppose.”

The next issue of Lady Whistledown mentioned them, of course.  
Now that Benedict took over Colin’s one family duty (making sure his little sister’s wallflower best friend got to dance), did he need to come back from his travels at all?  
Could have been a lot worse, he thought as he scanned the contents.  
Cressida Cowper didn’t get away that easily- wardrobe malfunction, described in gleeful detail.  
Missing such a scene almost made him regret leaving early.

The following weeks, he spent most of his time out of the house, attending Mr. Greene’s artist gatherings. And generally avoiding his mother.

Consequently, he only saw Penelope at social events.  
They always danced at least once, and conversed at length. At some point, his family and friends started jokingly asking if they were courting.

She was entirely unamused from the beginning, while Benedict felt some sort of accomplishment at the notion.  
He only started to feel annoyed when the questions became entirely too frequent and were asked by mothers of young, available women.  
Their relationship was supposed to ease the pressure to get married, not increase it.  
God, couldn’t people just leave them alone? 

On a rebellious impulse one night, he said to yet another nosy inquirer: ”Perhaps. But I don’t see why you have such an interest in other people’s relationships?”

Penelope narrowed her eyes.  
“Benedict, we need to have a conversation!”, she hissed in a panicked voice.  
Ah, she definitely did not appreciate his comment. His stomach twisted itself into an anxious knot.  
It dawned on him then that his comment must have looked to Penelope like he was making fun of her ineligibility.  
Joking that maybe he was courting her, when everyone knew otherwise.  
He felt bile rising to his throat.

“…Yes?”, he said, “Do you… do you want to step out for a moment?”  
“No,” she shook her head, “Let’s talk tomorrow at your house.”  
Then, in a lower voice, Penelope added: “It’s more private that way.”  
Benedict let his gaze wander around the bustling ballroom.  
“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It was around three o’clock in the afternoon when the Butler announced Penelope had arrived.  
Benedict rushed to the door.

He attempted his most charming grin. She averted her eyes.

“This is the first time you came here to see me specifically, is it not? What a delightful occasion!”  
He attempted to break the heavy, awkward atmosphere. Whether it was to make her or him feel better, Benedict didn’t know.  
Penelope snickered, breaking her stiff posture. She always had a charming laugh.

“Don’t let it go to your head too much, Benedict. Eloise is still my favorite,” she teased.

“Say, how much am I in trouble to warrant this visit?”, he asked on the way to the drawing room. The anxious feeling from yesterday returned.

Penelope sighed.  
“You are not in trouble. You haven’t done anything wrong,” she curled a strand of her copper hair around her finger.  
“But, I think I need to clarify a few things with you.” 

They passed through the door.  
She sat down opposite to him and crossed her arms over her chest.  
Benedict swallowed dryly.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” he said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I know, Benedict. I was annoyed by all the ladies, too,” she replied.  
Penelope straightened her back and took a deep breath.  
“But I believe we both agree implying we are be courting is not the way to go. At best, people won’t take it seriously, at worst they make up a whole scandal around it.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying…”, he whispered, “ I just wanted them to leave us alone. I swear, I won’t say something like that again.”

Her smile feltlike the first warm sunlight after winter.

“Thank you”, she said. “Though, I think it would be best if we stopped spending so much time together at every party.”

Benedict clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together unpleasantly.  
“But why?”, he blurted out. “I don’t want to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict is unable to have a discussion like an adult. What else is new?

Penelope looked at him, expressionless. Several seconds passed.  
He cleared his throat, realizing how selfish he was acting.  
“Look, what I mean is… is that really necessary? You make those parties way more bearable.”

Did she not enjoy spending time with him? Maybe she only tolerated him when Eloise was around.   
The thought of Penelope considering him only her friend’s annoying, clingy brother felt like a punch to the face.  
Benedict suddenly felt way too vulnerable.  
“But please, don’t feel pressured. I can find others to keep me company at the societal events,” he added.  
His comment had a hurtful undertone. 

Penelope’s facial expression hardened. Damn his bruised ego.  
“Yes, I am aware that you can choose whoever you want to spend time with”, she said with an icy voice he’d never heard her use before, “ which is part of the problem.”  
She leaned back, away from him. “I understand the unmarried young ladies are often… unpleasant to deal with. Nevertheless, sticking to me like glue is not the solution. I do enjoy spending time with, a lot. But, it is obvious to everyone and their mother that you use me to evade them.”  
Pausing, she took a breath. “And frankly, I do not enjoy all the attention on me. Or shall I say mockery directed at me? Still, some people are genuinely going to be jealous if we keep doing this.” 

Benedict wanted to reply, to counter, but could not come up with anything.  
She was right. He wasn’t courting her. No one believed he ever would.   
He’d never visited the Featheringtons, for starters. That was alone made it obvious.   
And she was (most importantly) not beautiful enough to capture his attention. Who decided that, anyway?

He sighed, defeated. “Alright, I understand. I’ll see when you are visiting Eloise?”  
A weak smile played on his lips. It didn’t ease the tension between them at all.  
I’ll keep interrupting your time with your best friend. How pathetic.   
“Uh, sure”, Penelope replied, taken aback. “…Thank you for understanding.”  
She left quickly after. 

Two weeks later, Benedict was at a loss.   
He had expected some awkwardness between them. But not to this extent.  
Penelope put her walls up again, firmly keeping him at a distance.  
Whenever he was in the same room, she stiffened up. Her answers were always short, she wouldn’t look him in the eye.  
Of course, Eloise noticed. And she had enough.

The cool nighttime air felt pleasant on his skin as he approached Eloise on the swings. She turned to face him.  
“What in the world happened between you and Pen?!”, she hissed. “She is acting like a scared rabbit whenever you are around!”  
In his opinion, a tortoise was a much more fitting comparison.

“I thought you got along?”  
His sister eyes shone with worry, rather than the anger he had expected. He would have deserved it.   
No clear answer formed in his mind. Did they get along?   
His tactlessness had destroyed the fragile, tentative friendship that had been forming. A dull, oppressive pain spread through his ribcage.

“I was inconsiderate toward her,” Benedict confessed.   
A wave of relief hit him. How did he not realize to this moment how much his conflict with Penelope weighed on his mind?  
“I didn’t realize how much I was inconveniencing her. And, when she pointed it out, I reacted… badly.”

Eloise raised an eyebrow. “So, you are saying you did not notice you were totally forcing yourself into our friendship? Even when we threw you out five times in a row last year?”, she teased, visibly amused.  
“Hey, you two got used to me!”, he replied. “It wasn’t about that.”  
“Yes, I know it wasn’t,” his sister said. “I’ve known Penelope for longer than you.” She had a smug grin on her face.  
“So, are you going to tell me what happened or not?”

“Oh God, how can someone in my family be this stupid.” Eloise covered her eyes. Her face was contorted in a painful-looking grimace.  
“Of course she would know you only started dancing with her out of pity!”, she spat. “And then you tell her you can dance with whoever you want? Like a five year old? Uggghhh… Honestly, you should apologize to mother first for wasting all your education.”  
“I am not interested in a slow and painful death, thank you very much,” Benedict replied in a deadpan voice. “I would like to live long enough to tell Penelope that I regret my actions.”

“And that hasn’t happened yet why, exactly?”, she asked. “Just waiting for things to blow over might work, but I won’t accept such treatment of my dearest friend. She deserves a proper apology. You acted like…,” another sigh escaped her mouth, “ a kindergartner that was rejected by his crush.”

“I don’t have a crush!”, he interrupted.   
“Oh, you better don’t,” Eloise said. “I love you and all, but you are an idiot.”  
The idiot part was strangely affectionate.  
“And Penelope deserves better, I get it,” he leaned back on his swing.  
“But tell me, do you think someone who you consider worthy even exists?”  
He had the sudden desire to tease Eloise.   
“If I married her, she would at least stay close,” Benedict joked. “And she would finally be a real Bridgerton!”  
Huh. They would be able to spend however much time together as they pleased. That sounded nice. 

“Ah yes, you, the person she is avoiding like the plague. Truly a prime candidate for her hand in marriage.”  
His sister’s comeback was as clever as it was vicious.  
Benedict made a fake shocked expression. With his hand over his heart, like he had been shot, he replied: “You wound me! I thought we were here to discuss a strategy to end this predicament?”

“Ah, right…,” she looked pensive. “Other than apologizing…”  
“Do you think a gift would help?”, he asked, hopeful.

“I don’t know, she is not the type who likes extravagant gifts. Penelope will accept small gifts. But if it is too expensive, she’ll think she is being treated like a charity case. Remember when I wanted to buy her a dress last year? ” 

Eloise sighed. “You should just tell her that you were so upset because you like spending time with her so much, bla, bla, bla. Honesty is the best option here.”  
Of course, she was right. Benedict groaned.   
“So awkward conversation number two?”  
“Well, just do better than last time,” she replied.   
Very encouraging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short chapter took forever to write for some reason. But, hey, at least I could let out my frustration by having Benedict have the emotional equivalent of a car crash. :D  
> Hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short update, sorry for that. I'm in a bit of a writing slump, so I decided to just post what I've got right now.  
> Hopefully you guys enjoy this anyways!

Benedict lay in bed, turning around for the.... how many times had it been? He was clueless.  
His toes were cold, but under the iron weight of exhaustion from anxious sleeplessness, he could not be bothered to do anything about it.  
He must have briefly fallen asleep at some point in the night.  
Fleeting images of a dream kept forcing themselves into his mind.  
Penelope laughing. Dancing with him. Her, in is arms.  
And… Benedict shuddered… Penelope in underwear, looking down at him.

You act like you have a crush. Why did his unconscious latch on to that? He groaned into his pillow.  
Bloody hell. 

The apology went well, actually.   
She looked like she had just stepped out a renaissance painting, wearing a pastel blue dress that matched her eyes and highlighted her fiery hair.  
Benedict made notes beforehand, which he kept in his pocket while talking with Penelope.  
It calmed him down. In the end, he managed without them.  
Still, the weird dreams persisted.

He kept his word, and stopped sticking to Penelope like glue during social gatherings. A few weeks and a snarky gossip column later, the rumors were a thing of the past.  
Most importantly, the previous ease came back to his interactions with her. They slipped back into their snarky routine quickly.  
The fact that Eloise was with them helped (the three were back to lounging in the drawing room, like they’d done the year before).

Benedict was grateful for that. Really.   
They were a great trio. He and Eloise were each other’s favorite sibling.   
Hell, he only took an interest in Pen because of her.  
It didn’t stop him from feeling jealous whenever the two were laughing about a joke only they understood.  
Or when the girl would feed each other chocolates, and could hug without causing a scandal.

Benedict woke from one of his reoccurring dreams.   
He had dreamed of marrying Pen for three nights in row now. Denial was getting him nowhere.  
It was time he admitted it to himself: he did have feelings for Penelope. They had slowly and quietly crept up on him.  
The whole situation reminded him of his first infatuations with other men. He had ignored, misinterpreted his feelings as friendship then, too.  
By the time he realized, his crushes or the friendships had already ended.  
Well, one could always count on hindsight to make things clear.   
Benedict let out a frustrated groan.   
Was it too late again?


End file.
